FicWad

*Author’s Note: 1) The scene that wouldn't all fit in the previous posting on the LJ continues immediately below.
2) I went over the lj's character limits here, too, so the last scene of this chapter posting will also continue in the next one!









“I wish to take this moment to say a few words of my own. I have never wanted to withhold anything from the people of Alderaan, but until now it has not been lawfully possible for me to speak of this. A few moments ago, I discharged my last duty as Crown Prince, First Chairman, Viceroy, and senior Senator of Alderaan, and now that I have been succeeded by my sister, Alaina Organa, wife of Raymus Antilles, my first words must be to declare my allegiance to them, as a private citizen of Alderaan. This I do with all my heart. You all know the reasons that have impelled me to renounce the throne of Alderaan. You have, I am certain, heard rumors of my acceptance as the shared Padawan learner of Jedi Bendu Masters Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker since shortly after the news broke that the man masquerading as Palpatine of Naboo was, in fact, the Sith Lord Sidious and the being most responsible for the outbreak of the Clone Wars. I want all of you to understand, though, that in making up my mind to pursue this course of action, I did not forget this world or its people, which I have for many years faithfully attempted to serve to the very best of my ability. I must ask, though, that you believe me when I tell you that it would be impossible to carry the heavy burden of responsibility and to discharge the duties inherent to such a position as Crown Prince of Alderaan while also devoting the necessary time, focus, and devotion required by the Jedi Bendu path. I also want you to know that the decision I have made has been mine and mine alone. This was a thing I had to judge entirely for myself. The other person who would have been most affected by any decision on my part unfortunately did not live long enough to learn of the choice I have been offered. I have made this, the most serious decision of my life, by focusing solely on the single thought of what will, in the end, be best for all. This decision has been made less difficult to me by the sure knowledge that my sister, Alaina, with her thorough training and experience in the public affairs of this world and with her fine qualities of wisdom and leadership, will be able to take my place forthwith without interruption or injury to the life and progress of this world or its people. Alaina has one matchless blessing, enjoyed by so many of you, and not currently bestowed on me – a happy home with a loving husband and the promise of children to come – which I believe will only add to the stability of her reign. During these recent difficult days, I have been comforted by my family and friends as well as the men who I gladly name my Masters in the New Jedi Bendu Order. Ever since I was first declared the Heir Presumptive of the Alderaanian throne, I have been treated with consideration, respect, and the greatest kindness by all classes and manner of the sentient beings wherever I have lived or journeyed throughout this world. For that I am exceedingly grateful. It is with sorrow that I must quit altogether the public affairs of governing this world and lay down my burden as Alderaan’s ruling monarch. It may be some time before I am able to return to my native land, but I shall always follow the fortunes of Alderaan with profound interest, and if at any time in the future I may be found to be of service to Her Majesty Alaina in some private station, I promise that I shall not fail to do my duty as a loyal son of Alderaan. People of Alderaan, we all have a new Queen, now. I wish her and you, her people, happiness and prosperity with all of my heart. May the Force bless you and keep you safe within its sheltering embrace! The Force will be with Queen Alaina, always!”

The words are all vivid in his mind, as though etched in his memory by a laser, but Bail has no idea how he got from the Assembly Hall back to the Royal Palace, though he does recall telling the reporters that he would not be taking any questions. The next thing he remembers is hearing Anakin fiercely declaring, “I don’t care what anyone else thinks or says! It’s been a long, rough month, and Bail is our Padawan. He’s going to go straight to bed from here. Everything else can wait until tomorrow!”

The last thing that registers, before he slides down into the stillness of slumber, is Obi-Wan leaning over him, smiling as he places his right hand gently on Bail’s forehead, and telling him, “You’ve done well today, Padawan. Rest now to prepare yourself for tomorrow. /Sleep/.”

***

Anakin groans as he allows himself to fall (fully clothed but for his boots, utility belt, and outermost over-robe) limply back onto their bed, after they’ve seen to their Padawan and finally been able to return to their suite.

“My sentiments exactly,” Obi-Wan sighs, hanging up his own over-robe and then easing himself down onto the bed beside Anakin, wriggling his bare toes slightly as he comes to rest as if to help restore circulation to them.

“Dare I hope that Bail will take your suggestion to rest so much to heart that he’ll sleep the rest of today and all of tomorrow, too?” Anakin piteously asks, raising his right hand to massage tiredly at his aching head.

“Unfortunately, I wouldn’t bet on it. He should be out for the rest of today and at least another ten to twelve hours tomorrow, though, so we’ll have time to catch up on some of our sleep. I’m tempted to go into deep meditation, instead. I think it would be a more efficient use of time, given how drained I feel. I’m afraid that sleep alone won’t be enough,” Obi-Wan sighs, so tired that he rambles a little more and bit more disjointedly than he normally might.

“Hmm. Meditation, huh? Well, then, I suppose we’ll have to put the rest of the time to good use, right?” Anakin asks, rolling over on his side to smirk down at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan just blinks, looking up at him calmly, passively, as Anakin leans down over him to kiss him, the motion slow and effortless and inevitable, eyes going dark and dreamy as they slide half shut, the smirk fading and becoming something else, something softer, something just for Obi-Wan. For an endless blissful moment, the two drift, warm lips brushing together, velvet softness followed by a wet tease of tongue when Obi-Wan doesn’t pull back, instead reaching for Anakin and wrapped his right hand carefully around the nape of Anakin’s neck, fingers sliding under the silken weight of loose curls to come to rest on the smooth skin beneath. Anakin shivers ever so slightly under his hand as Obi-Wan’s palm shapes itself into a cradle for Anakin’s head and his left hand drifts to fit itself to the edge of his waist, then leans down into the kiss all at once, relaxing entirely as Obi-Wan’s lips part to welcome him inside. The world is reduced to touch, taste, the purely exhilarating scent of each other (a heady mix of musk and salt and desire), and they hang together, cradled in a cocoon of sensation, for what feels, to them, like a long time.

The trilling beep of a comm unit makes Anakin fall away from Obi-Wan, back onto the bed beside him, with a snarled curse that pales in viciousness next to the unexpected expletive that snarls out from behind Obi-Wan’s pursed lips. Anakin turns to look at him, shocked almost beyond words, eyes almost comically round, and Obi-Wan just looks at him, face set into hard, scowling lines, for several heartbeats before abruptly dissolving into helpless giggles that soon have both men rolling on the bed, snickering and hiccoughing with helpless laughter.

“I didn’t – I didn’t even know you/ knew/ that word!” Anakin sputters in between giggles.

“Master always used to say that resorting to foul language is a hallmark of a small mind. So I try to avoid cursing. Even though Qui-Gon had – and I assume still has – a mouth that could make even a Hutt blush,” Obi-Wan replies, unabashedly grinning like a loon.

“Do you think it’s anyone important?” Anakin asks, when he’s finally recovered enough from the laughter that particular confession prompts to form words of greater length than one syllable again.

“I’m tempted not to bother to check. I do believe you’re rubbing off on me.”

“Well, no, but I could . . . ”

“Anakin!” The efficacy of the scold is somewhat diminished by the fact that Obi-Wan snorts and begins to laugh the instant he finishes speaking.

Anakin snickers unabashedly and holds out his hand, reaching into the Force and bringing the ringing comm unit to his hand. As he looks at the machine, though, his smirk swiftly dissolves into a frown. “Well, /frack/. It’s the comm for the Temple.”

Obi-Wan instantly stops laughing and, with a tired sigh, holds out his left hand for the still beeping machine. He then scoots up in the bed until his back hits a pillow that’s fetched solidly up against the headboard, waits until Anakin has assumed a similar position next to him, close enough that he’ll show up on the returning transmission, and activates the comm to receive the incoming message.

They are equally surprised when the image that flickers into blue-tinged life above the holocomm is neither Qui-Gon nor Dooku but instead, of all people, Mace Windu.

“Mace?”

“Master Windu?”

“Ah. Obi-Wan. Anakin. There you are.”

“Apologies for the delay in answering, Mace. We were about to retire early for the day,” Obi-Wan explains, pulling his more usual calm serenity around him like a robe.

“I’m sorry to call you after you’ve had such a busy day, but Qui-Gon asked me to comm. There’s been some progress made with the Sith Lord’s records, and the Grand Masters thought you would want to know, since you’ve asked several times to be kept abreast of any developments in the search,” Mace explains, somehow managing to simultaneously convey an impression of genuine regret for bothering them and an unabashed eagerness to impart the news he has without in any way diminishing the sincerity of the apology.

Anakin’s ears all but perk up in interest at that. “Oh? Have they found records about hostages or subjects of experiments Sidious may’ve been keeping?”

“Yes and no. We found records indicating that the Sith Lord had hired Jenna Zan Arbor and certain other unscrupulous scientists to run two different series of experiments, one aimed at finding a faster and more efficient way to grow clones and other genetically crafted beings and the other aimed at creating some kind of Force-strong, genetically perfect being. It appears he wanted to cheat death by transferring his consciousness into either a clone of himself or a new, sufficiently Force-strong host body. Data indicates that there had been so much damage done to Sidious’ body by what he refers to as the corruptive energies of the Dark Side that, as recently as a year ago, it had been proving impossible to create a viably healthy clone. But there’s mention of a method of cloning potentially unhindered by the time constraints of the Kaminoan method, which can’t be accelerated past the point of about thrice the normal rate of aging for the species being cloned without resulting in a quickly fatal breakdown in the stability of the cloned genome that mimics the symptoms of accelerated segmental progeria. There’s also mention of Myrkr.”

Obi-Wan and Anakin both flinch as though they’ve been struck. “Of /Myrkr/?” Obi-Wan breathes, clearly horrified by the very thought of the place.

“What in the name of the Force could Sidious have possibly wanted with that Force-forsaken planet?” Anakin demands, not bothering to hide a shudder of fearful revulsion. Myrkr is one of the few known planets in the galaxy that Jedi quite simply attempt to avoid at all costs. A largely unsettled forest world, Myrkr is the native home of one extremely nasty species that hunts exclusively by sensing the Force (and will viciously attack any being with high Force-sensitivity, apparently driven to a frenzy similar to that of sharks once they’ve scented fresh blood) and one quite inconvenient species that has evolved a protective mechanism against the other that allows them to generate bubbles of space in which nearly all easily detectable traces Force-energy are either literally pushed away from the creature and its immediate vicinity or else rendered neutral and therefore utterly unusable by most Force-sensitives. This protective mechanism, while meant to allow ysalamiri to avoid hunting packs of vornskrs, generates areas (exponentially, as more of the creatures gather together in a given area of space) in which the Force quite simply seems to no longer exist, even to the most powerful of Jedi, meaning that it is impossible to use the Force in the vicinity of an olbio tree occupied by ysalamiri. Jedi therefore avoid the planet in much the same way as others might avoid a place known to be riddled with plague. Even though the Grand Masters have assured them both that they cannot be affected by artificial Force-dampening fields, Force cages, or Force-binding restraints (like those developed by the Sith to contain and torture enemies or captured prisoners and by Jenna Zan Arbor for her experiments on Force-sensitives) any more than Force spirits can be affected by such things and logically this should mean that Obi-Wan and Anakin are now as immune to the effects of the ysalamiri Force-neutral bubbles as Qui-Gon and Dooku themselves, neither one of them would particularly like to have to test that supposed immunity, and the idea of the Grand Masters deliberately choosing to visit that planet makes them both feel extremely uneasy.

“The information we’ve been able to compile so far is unclear as to what the actual connection is between this second method of cloning and Myrkr, but Dooku remembers hearing rumors of some of Zan Arbor’s more recent experiments that’s made him believe that Sidious may have been attempting to remove enough ysalamiri and vornskrs to successfully breed them in captivity. The ysalamiri are troublesome enough, even if the Grand Masters are correct in assuming that altering the Jedi style of teaching to cultivate a greater overall sensitivity to the flows of the Force will negate problems associated with both the Force-repelling fields naturally produced by such creatures and artificial Force-binding technology based on similar principles. Additional training helps only those who are able to receive it and succeed in mastering it, after all. If Jenna Zan Arbor also is experimenting with the Force-tracking ability of vornskrs, we may well find ourselves with a serious crisis on our hands,” Mace grimly explains.

“And so the Grand Masters have gone to Myrkr to see if they can, what, find evidence of harvesting?” Obi-Wan asks, frowning a little puzzledly. “Unless Sidious allowed his hirlings to set up a base of operations on a planet where he would be in danger of being rendered virtually powerless – and I find it hard to believe that he would do such a thing, considering how little the Sith are able to trust others – I’m not sure how they’d be able to find definitive evidence of much of anything. Wouldn’t it have been wiser to stay and continue to search for more detailed records of Sidious’ plans and doings?”

Mace shrugs slightly. “Qui-Gon insisted he knows a way to check if there have been any disturbances to the local ecosytems originating from outside the native biosphere. He said it would likely take a full day of his unbroken attention to be entirely sure, but he seemed sure he would be able to tell. I was left with the task of contacting the two of you, since he and Dooku won’t be available for at least the next one and a half to two days.”

“They’ve already left, then?” Anakin asks, frowning unhappily, obviously still uneasy with the entire idea of a mission to Myrkr.

“About ten minutes before I commed.”

“Myrkr is an evil place. I wish they’d waited to speak to us about it, or at least gone by a more conventional means, so they could take some backup. We’re going to have to clean that planet out, anyway. It’s a known hideout for smugglers and on the run criminals. They should have waited and taken a battalion with them,” Anakin frets, his frown deepening to a scowl.

“Evil?” Mace asks, looking mildly surprised at the vehemence of Anakin’s displeasure. “What makes you say that, Anakin? The planet has certainly been unhealthy for Jedi, in the past, but it’s not as if the place itself were actively malicious or malignant, like Vjun or Ziost or Korriban or, Force protect us, Lehon.”

“Something happened on that planet that was so bad that it tore a hole in the fabric of the Force, in the most possible future of that other probable timeline, when I fell. Obi-Wan saw it – or as much of it as he could, given the difficulties involved in seeing so far ahead, even down the main branch of the possible future – and I saw it, too, through him,” Anakin explains, grimacing with remembered pain. “It was /awful/, something so incredibly evil that it wounded the Force in a way that I can only assume is like the way the legendary Jedi Exile existed as a perpetual breach in the Force, just as Sidious likely did, to remain hidden from us for so long.”

“A living Force nexus?” Mace blinks once, slowly, clearly startled by the thought. “Such a thing has never been proven, not even in the case of the mysterious so-called Jedi Exile.”

“Only because Jedi typically don’t traffic in the kind of death and destruction necessary to cause the kind of wounding in the Force that generally leads to the establishment of what’s been termed a Dark Side nexus,” Obi-Wan distractedly points out, frowning thoughtfully off into the distance. “We’ve been taught to think of Force nexuses in terms of places, not people, but it’s a documented fact that the death of a Sith Lord or Dark Jedi strong enough in the Force can result in the same kind of dark, corruptive miasma as exists on Korriban, Ziost, Vjun, and Lehon. If those we think of as Dark Side users have the ability to cause wounds in the Force, through the release of the destructive energies their bodies have contained on their deaths, then I don’t see why such a being, given sufficient strength in the Force and sufficient concentration of corruption, couldn’t have existed, prior to death, as a living wound in the Force. Historically speaking, Jedi strong in the Force and thoroughly grounded in what’s been known as the Light Side have certainly had an effect on those around them similar to the effect of living in close proximity to a Light Side Force nexus. If we do away with the artificial divisions of Dark and Light, then what we have left is a pattern where those steeped in death tend to wound the Force while those steeped in life tend to concentrate the power and beneficial aspects of the Force. Myrkr is inhabited by a species that survives by constantly warping the flows of the Force away from itself, simply by living. It is . . . unwise to obstruct or tamper with the Force at such a level. The taint of corruption on the Force that Sidious cultivated blocked and twisted the Force’s natural flows in a similar fashion. I don’t believe it would be a great exaggeration, to call a planet full of such creatures so naturally able to twist and warp the Force unhealthy, at the very least, and a place of significantly great potential evil. If an event of sufficient significance were to occur there, it’s highly probable that the entire planet would turn, well, /bad/, for lack of a better word. Truly, fully evil, like Lehon, Korriban, Ziost, and Vjun.” Obi-Wan’s frown deepens, his gaze abruptly refocuses on Mace, as he adds, in a softer, gentler tone, “Odds are that something similar has been occurring on your homeworld, Mace, given the combination of centuries of perpetual conflict and a sizeable majority of the population being both strong in the Force and constantly victimized by the better armed off-world minority.”

Mace doesn’t quite recoil, but it appears to be a near thing, from the way he’s holding himself. “Are you suggesting that /Depa may have become the focus of such a forming nexus?”/

“It would certainly explain a great many thing that have remained unclear, regarding her illness,” Obi-Wan gently replies. “Depa Billaba had the soul of a healer. To be made the nexus of so much pain, suffering, and death . . . it would have driven her mad. She wouldn’t’ve been able to control herself, especially not once she fell under the influence of one such as Kar Vastor.”

“That kind of evil is parasitic. Once it finds a way into you, it worms its way down deep into your psyche and your soul, until you’re so full of the sick taint of its darkness that you can’t imagine ever being free of it again and you feel as if you have no choice but to embrace it and make it wholly yours, because you’ve lost the ability to imagine yourself ever being any other way,” Anakin quietly adds, his voice so bleak that Obi-Wan automatically reaches out to him and pulls him into a close, comforting, reassuring one-armed embrace. “Depa fought it, from what I understand, but you have to make a conscious decision to change, to throw the darkness off and cast the evil out of you and embrace love and life and light, instead, to really be free of it. She was exhausted and in a great deal of pain, at the end. You hurt her badly. I doubt she could focus enough to see her way out of the darkness. So she did the only thing she could probably think of, to protect you and everyone else. Since you’d defeated her and you and Nick Rostu managed to keep her from killing herself outright, she chose, willingly, to embrace a coma so deep that the evil couldn’t continue to influence her. Away from such an immediate and corrupting source of suffering and destruction, in a safe environment like the Temple, and with the taint now removed from the Force, she should eventually wake . . . and be able to see clearly enough to make the choice she couldn’t, before.”

Mace looks as if he’s been poleaxed./ “I – that is – you are quite sure of this?”/ he finally stammers out, a faint tremor wracking his body and making the hologram jitter weirdly.

“As sure as we can be, which is why it’s somewhat distressing to learn that Qui-Gon and Dooku have already left for Myrkr. That entire planet is potentially quite perilous to Force-users, in ways that go far beyond the obvious dangers,” Obi-Wan replies with a small, unhappy sigh. “You said it would likely be two days, before they returned?”

“Dooku said something about checking up on another possibility, while they were out, if Myrkr didn’t present an immediate threat. He didn’t elaborate on it, though,” Mace explains, still looking more than a little bit distracted by the probable revelation about Depa’s condition.

“We shouldn’t be far behind them, then. If we don’t leave here late tomorrow, it will be early the next day,” Obi-Wan declares, nodding as if he’s come to a decision. “Don’t let them go back to that world, even if they think it is an immediate threat. Any action that might need to be taken against its populace can be taken as easily by the GAR, and so avoid running the risk of presenting a possible living focus for a new Force nexus, should things go badly.”

“The GANAR, now – the Grand Army of the New Alliance of the Republic,” Mace notes, a little absentmindedly, steepling his fingers together thoughtfully. “The planet should be placed under a permanent ban, like Korriban, Ziost, and Lehon, if it’s all that dangerous. There’s already talk of placing Vjun under such a ban. It should be a simple matter to add Myrkr to the list of prohibited planets with Vjun. And GANAR forces are better suited for such a task than the Grand Masters of the New Jedi Bendu Order. I’ll tell them so, when they return.”

“Thank you, Mace. I believe that would be the wisest course,” Obi-Wan offers with a small but genuine smile as he inclines his head in the direction of the former Jedi Master and unofficial second in command of the Jedi Order.

Mace’s lips quirk slightly, though he doesn’t quite smile, as he inclines his head in turn. “I live to serve the Force’s will.”

Even Anakin smiles a little at that. “As do we all, Master Windu.”

The quirk comes again, slightly more pronounced, and Mace notes, with easy good humor, “Mace, Anakin. Please. I believe you’ve more than earned the right to use my name, rather than my title, by this point.”

Anakin grins unabashedly. “I’ll try not to abuse the privilege, then . . . Mace.”

Mace’s lips twitch outright this time, but he’s as calmly cool as ever as he notes, “Indeed. I’m sure you’ll be circumspect. Now, unless there’s anything else . . . ?”

“I don’t believe so, no. The abdication went well, but I’m sure you already knew that. If anything happens to set back our departure, we’ll comm to let you know,” Obi-Wan promises. “I’d appreciate it if you’d let us know of any other important discovers that might be made between now and when we arrive back on Coruscant.”

“Especially if it involves any hostages or kidnap victims or slaves Sidious may’ve purchased for his tame mad scientists to experiment on,” Anakin grimly chimes in.

“I’ll keep in touch,” Mace agrees, nodding solemnly at Anakin before turning slightly to give Obi-Wan another one of those humorous quirks of his mouth. “You’ll have to tell me, sometime, exactly how you managed to be on Naboo yesterday and Alderaan today.”

“Join us for lunch some time and we’ll tell you all about it,” Obi-Wan offers.

“Deal.” Mace nods definitely. “Until then, may the Force be with you and yours.”

“And with you,” Obi-Wan and Anakin chorus, automatically nodding their heads politely in return to Mace’s half-bow.

By the time they’ve looked back up, the blue-tinged hologram has flickered off. Obi-Wan reaches out to flick the comm unit off, and then hands it over to Anakin, who wordlessly reaches across to put in on the nightstand. “Well,” Obi-Wan offers, as Anakin rolls back over to settle against the pillows.

“Well, that kind of ruins the mood,” Anakin sighs back. “I can’t believe they just up and went to Myrkr like that. Are they trying to get themselves killed? Or whatever the equivalent of getting killed is for Force spirits, anyway,” he adds, scowling irritably.

Obi-Wan sighs tiredly and rubs a hand over his forehead. “I hate to admit it, but that’s likely Qui-Gon’s fault. He has a bad habit of responding to situations without always thinking things through carefully and completely, first. Hopefully, Master Dooku will be able to restrain his more impulsive instincts, once they’re actually there.”

“I’d say those two remind me of us, except I don’t think even I would be reckless enough to rush off to Myrkr like that,” Anakin grumbles, slouching down a bit further on the bed and crossing his arms loosely. “I have a really bad feeling about that planet, Obi-Wan.”

“I’d say it’s still a fair comparison, except that I happen to believe you about knowing better than to go haring off to Myrkr,” Obi-Wan replies, half smiling and half sighing. “I do wish I could see what happened there, down that other main timeline. It would help immensely to know what we should be trying to prevent,” he laments, sliding down on the mattress until he’s lying down and letting his head hit the pillow with a noticeable /whump/.

“Force forfend it should ever be easy!” Anakin quips, half groaning and half snorting.

“I think we’re agreed that easiness in our tasks would be a sign that the world is coming to an end,” Obi-Wan quips, his mouth moving to shape a wry smile as he burrows back slightly against the mattress, folding his hands across his chest. “Besides, I thought you enjoyed a good challenge, Anakin. Aren’t you always telling me that the fun doesn’t really start until we’re right in the thick of things?”

“Yeah, well, that’s for/ us/, not for the Grand Masters. They should know better than to go looking for a good challenge on a place like Myrkr,” Anakin only grumpily retorts.

Obi-Wan turns to look at him, his lopsided grin easily spreading into a full-fledged smile. “That anxiety you’re experiencing is rather like what I felt as a Master, when a certain Padawan was sent out on his first solo mission. Given that they doubtlessly experienced the same anxiety over their Padawans – and I rather get the feeling Qui-Gon experienced quite a bit of anxiety over just about every mission the two of us ever went on – somehow I doubt the Grand Masters would be inclined to feel much sympathy.”

“Hrumph.” Anakin makes a noise of disgust deep in the back of his throat and rolls his eyes slightly as he turns to shoot Obi-Wan a dark look. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Well, look at it this way, then. You’re getting in some good practice for the days when Bail goes off on his first solitary missions . . . and for when the twins get old enough to start poking their noses into everything, including things that they really shouldn’t,” Obi-Wan just grins back at him, clearly amused.

“That is /so /not helpful!” Anakin glares at him for several long moments before finally giving in and laughing with him, only a slight ragged edge to his mirth giving away just how hard he truly finds it to be the one left behind to worry instead of the one out causing the worrying.

“Yes, well, if it makes you feel any better, that’s essentially what I told Mace, when he told me something quite similar,” Obi-Wan merely smiles back.

“Mace. Huh. I think it’s going to take me a while to get used to that,” Anakin notes, a slight furrow appearing in the center of his forehead. “Mace being a nice guy, I mean. Not just a good guy, but a nice one, somebody able to take a joke and to make one, both. He was just so . . . so unremittingly /grim/, before.”

Obi-Wan sighs, a little sadly. “He wasn’t always like that, though. Qui-Gon’s death and Dooku’s desertion hit him hard, and he was deeply uneasy at the appearance of the one he came to believe was the Chosen One.” Obi-Wan shoots Anakin a meaningful look. “If you hadn’t tried so hard to push every last one of the Temple’s rules until they broke, he might not have been so unremittingly unamused in your immediate vicinity. It wasn’t until the war began, really, that he truly seemed to lose his sense of humor. I’m hoping he’ll find it again, now that the Sith Lord’s been dealt with and the war – or the first round, at least – is over. Mace had a wonderfully quirky sense of humor, back before his election to the High Council and the Trade Federation’s invasion of Naboo. We could use some levity like that. It’s going to be difficult for some of the older Jedi and Padawans to adjust to the new way of doing things. Seeing someone like Mace adjust to the new rules with good grace and humor should only help encourage them to do so, as well.”

“If he and Depa can repair the breech between them – ”

“If and if and if,” Obi-Wan cuts him off with a small shake of his head. “There are too many variables up in the air, still. ‘Until the possible becomes actual – ’”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s ‘only a distraction,’” Anakin chimes in, frowning a little as he finishes the oft-repeated quote of one of Qui-Gon’s favorite aphorisms. “Considering your far-sight visions, though, I’m not convinced that’s a very safe attitude to adopt, here. We know part of what’s coming, pretty much no matter what, and we also have a pretty good idea about some of the things that could happen, especially if we don’t do enough to stop them from happening. If we aren’t careful, we could miss a chance to keep something terrible from happening.”

“And if we aren’t careful, we could end up causing the very things that we wish to keep from happening,” Obi-Wan counters, his gaze sharpening.

“You don’t need to warn me about that. I remember all too well what happened, when I started dreaming about Padmé dying during childbirth, in that other timeline. I know visions can be a double-edged sword,” Anakin scowls. “I’m just saying we probably can’t afford to simply let bad things happen, when we could stop them from happening. The storm of storms – ”

Obi-Wan shakes his head again, cutting Anakin off. “That will come, no matter what we may ultimately do or fail to do. All we can do is prepare as best we can to weather it and build whatever windbreaks we can to absorb, blunt, or at the very least redirect its wrath.”

“Then we should always try to do what we can, to keep the things from happening that will only add fuel to the fire and make the storms that much worse,” Anakin stubbornly insists, his scowl deepening.

“We can’t rely on the far-sight visions. I never saw what happened on Naboo,” Obi-Wan warningly insists. “I’ve never been able to see anything having to do with Sola’s body, and I fear we may have made a grave mistake, leaving the cast-off body behind like that.”

“There are things we can’t protect against. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do everything we can to protect against the things that we clearly can see coming.”

“Anakin – ”

“Look, I know you don’t particularly like the idea of being able to see the future, even if it is just all the different possible paths the future will most probably choose to take, based on what you already know enough about to be able to see. I know you feel like you haven’t really earned the right to have these visions – especially not when even Master Yoda only ever rarely had them and he made it eminently clear that he didn’t approve of trusting all that much in them. I know it unsettles you that the gift of far-sight came to you when it did, just when you needed it and could get the most use out of it. But you are the Chosen One/, Obi-Wan. Not Yoda, and not me. I’m just the Sith’ari. Unless there’s some other secret enclave of Sith running about somewhere that I’m supposed to lead to great power and then destroy, my work’s basically already done. Your work, though, is just starting,” Anakin determinedly cuts him off, giving him such an earnest look that Obi-Wan finds himself shutting his mouth and listening instead of attempting to cut him off or talk over him. “I’ve read some of the prophecies. Bringing balance to the Force is just the leading edge of the star destroyer. The Chosen One is supposed to herald a new order, a new balance of power in the galaxy, and a peace that will dwarf all other periods without strife that have come before it. In other words, Chosen One, you’re supposed to do everything that we’re trying to do, with the New Bendu Order and the New Alliance of the Republic, and then some. So you really can’t afford to pick and choose among the tools the Force has given you, to accomplish your task. You can’t refuse a gift of the Force at all, if you still want to be true to yourself, as a Jedi Bendu. You need to stop resisting this so much. I’m going to be with you and I’ll help you as much as I can – /of course I’ll do everything I can to help you and keep you safe – but I can’t really help you all that well if you’re going to refuse to help yourself. You have to be willing to meet me partway, for this to work. I need you to be with me, if we’re going to do this together.”

The look Obi-Wan gives him is half helpless amusement and half bemusement so deep that it borders on incredulity. “And you think you’re going to have trouble getting used to Mace being nice?” he half laughs, shaking his head. “Anakin, I am never going to get used to you being so incredibly wise.”

Anakin cocks an eyebrow at him, grinning at him crookedly. “You trying to tell me you didn’t think I’m capable of being wise, Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head slowly in reply. “I’m just making note of the fact that I never taught you such wisdom.”

“Bantha poodoo/,” is Anakin’s oddly calm and yet cheerful reply. “Any claim to wisdom I have is directly due to the fact that I’ve spent so many years around you. I probably could’ve learned some from my mom, under other circumstances, but we didn’t really have enough time together.” Regret and sorrow flicker across Anakin’s face and he shuts his eyes for a moment, as if to brace himself against the pain. But when he looks at Obi-Wan again, there’s an almost eerily calm certainty in his eyes. “I am the person I am because of the life I’ve lived and because /you were here with me/. I may be the Sith’ari, but the Sith and their kind have no claim on me. /You do. I want to help you. I need /to help you. But /you have to be willing to let me. This is one of those times. ”

“It isn’t your responsibility to – ”

“Mynock muffins. If not mine, then whose?”

“Do we need to have another talk about blaming yourself for things you haven’t done?”

“I don’t know. Do we need to have another talk about why you worry so much?”

“I only worry because – ”

“And I repeat: bantha /poodoo/. I’m worrying /right now/, Obi-Wan. It only makes sense that the Force has given you far-sight because we’re expected to do something useful with the knowledge we gain from your visions. There’s no Sith Lord left to put false visions about what he wants to see happen into your head in place of what the Force wants you to see about what might happen if no one does anything to stop it. If you accept that the visions are real, then you have to accept that the Force wants you to have that knowledge. And if you do that, you have to accept that the Force must want you to do something with that knowledge . . . something like using to prepare for those things that can’t be kept from happening and it to keep the bad things that can still be stopped from actually occurring.”

Distractedly, Obi-Wan points out, “You’re arguing in a circle, Anakin.”

Anakin just shrugs, though, before nonchalantly turning the point back around on Obi-Wan. “Yeah, well, I learned wisdom from you, remember? You’re the one who always thought that sheer dint of repetition would eventually succeed where everything else had failed . . . and somehow I doubt I’m the only one who can attest to your penchant for repetitive lectures.”

Obi-Wan laughs a little bit then, in spite of himself, as Anakin grins at him. “Oh, very well, then. Alright. I know when I’m bested. We’ll talk about the far-sight visions I’ve had and try to figure out if there’s anything we’ve missed or something more that we might be able to do, now, to stave off as many of those ‘bad things’ as we possibly can. Is that acceptable to you?”

“Yeah, as it so happens, it is. Just not right now, okay?” Anakin replies, giving him an almost heartbreakingly content smile.

“And here I was beginning to think you were learning how to be reasonable. Now I just think you’re trying to angle for something. You never want to meditate, Anakin!” Obi-Wan doesn’t quite laugh this time, though it looks as if he might like to, from the way his eyebrows both shoot up and his lips sort of half quirk upwards and half take on an oddly pursed shape.

Anakin grins unrepentantly and flashes him a conspicuously exaggerated wink. “Well, you know how we never got around to those ‘other things,’ before? I figure if we put in twelve hours of deep, healing meditation, we’ll have plenty of time for something a bit more fun, afterwards, before we have to worry about our Padawan waking back up.”

Obi-Wan gives a half-choked laugh, face flushing bright red. “You’re /terrible/. You do know that, don’t you?”

The grin is unabashedly cheeky, and deep enough to crinkle the edges of Anakin’s eyes and flash a sliver of white teeth at Obi-Wan. “Yes. But you love me.”

“Bratling. Come here,” Obi-Wan commands, letting himself laugh this time as he holds out his arm, waiting for Anakin to scoot across the mattress and settle against him, nestling against his side until they fit together like two matched puzzle pieces. Then, with a soft smile, he begins to recite a reassuringly familiar spiel. “Time your breathing and your heartbeat to mine. Let the bond between us open to the fullest as the Force fills you up and carries you down into its depths. Stay with me. Breathe with me. Be with me. Everything else can wait. It’s just you and I, now. You and I . . . and the Force. Be one with it and with me. Be one with me. Be with me. Just /be/, Anakin Skywalker . . . ”

As they slide down together into the Force, into the healing meditative trance, an emotion surfaces, promising a different kind of togetherness, later, and bringing a smile to the faces of both men.

***

Obi-Wan is completely unclothed when he surfaces back to consciousness, but he has no time to wonder how Anakin has managed it.

He’s too busy reacting to the wet warmth of Anakin’s mouth.

Awareness centers around heat and pleasure, a haze of heated, liquid suction and long-fingered hands on the sensitive skin between the joint of legs and pelvis, smoothing along those twinned indentations and curving up across skin to urge those thighs to open up more fully, the press of a body between them already spreading them wide. Consciousness catches on a series of searing moments, illuminated in sharp relief as if by flashes of heat-lightning against a darkened summer skyline: loving hands moving, caressing, fondling, massaging tight globes of flesh and then curving up around to support loosely pendulous flesh; a sharp intake of breath at euphoria-spiking vibrations from a satisfied hum of pleasure; a helpless thrust upwards into heaven; clever fingers sliding upwards to slide across sweat-slickened skin to skitter across pectorals and stroke, tease, and pinch at first rapidly hardening and then rigidly straining nipples; a sudden unexpected shift of motion, sheets slithering with a slight susurrus as that body abruptly lifts itself upwards, sliding away with a salvia-slick audible pop/, prompting a low groan of loss; a grasping hand on him, positioning him, and then rushing heat, pressure, clenching greedy muscles, hot and slick and – /O, so good! – encasing him again in one long plunge of motion; body arching helplessly to meet a powerful downward thrust; a long neck describing an arc of pure ecstacy as sharp white teeth nip at silky-thin skin, catching and worrying and then laving gently with worshipful tongue; tongues tangling, twisting, turning against one another, flickering, licking, caressing, twining, till one is captured and sucked on strongly until the need for air becomes desperate and the golden head turns aside, pulling free, gasping in wrenching pants after more oxygen; hands clenching, greedy-tight, around hips, urging them to move faster; heat and more heat, burning, scorching, inflaming, a raging inferno leaving nothing untouched; a shamelessly desperate cry – Please, yes! – and a sudden bracing of the body above, allowing an almost painfully violent tight-snapping arc of movement, allowing the body beneath a greater range of motion; hips pistoning, shoving, ramming, plunging, deeper, harder, faster, bodies crashing together, red hair spilling across the pillows like blood while sweat-damped and -darkened golden curls swing free, caressing heated skin, clinging wetly to flushing temples and cheeks and neck; a heartfelt sob of (too keen, too much, almost unbearable!) pleasure caught and rebounding between mouths as they rush together in another breath-stopping, pulse-pounding kiss; hips pushing, pulling, colliding in syncopated but swiftly steadying rhythm; hands grasping, kneading, reaching to curve to the shape of desire and moving, sliding, gliding, in point-counterpoint beat to the quickening rhythm of hips; too hot skin sliding, catching, causing a twinned desperate hitch of breath and – Force! – a keening sob that pushes their clinging mouths apart; bodies tensing, arching, twisting, begging – Please, yes, Force! – pressing, grinding, piercing/pierced and filled/filling and (close, close, so close!) close striving for impossibly closer/, a hoarse shout – /Anakin! – erupting in time with a screaming cry – Obi-Wan! – sticky, salt-sweet, white-hot, energy and love fountaining between them, an endless, unfading declaration of (/love you, love you, love you!/) love.

In the (literal) afterglow, as awareness of themselves and their bodies (eventually) return and they settle back into themselves and against one another, a low, rolling hum of unabashed satisfaction rumbles up from Anakin’s chest, vibrating between them as Obi-Wan turns his head for a softer, lazier kiss good morning.

Eyes like miniature seas (calm without being still, bright and blazing as if reflecting light) crinkle at the edges with a warm smile. Well, hello there. Glad to see me, then, are you?

Darker blue eyes return the smile, though the easy, sunny warmth quickly melts to a starker, more lascivious heat. Always happy to see you. And feel you. And kiss you. And –

– all those other wonderful things. Yes. Me, too. Though I do prefer the privacy of a bed.

A flash of teeth answers a pointedly raised eyebrow. We have a bed.

So we do. This/ time./

Eyebrows waggle suggestively. Then perhaps we should make the best possible use of it.

At that, the smallest hint of chiding (clearly there more out of a sense of duty than any real sense of protest against the actual suggestion) creeps into those swirling blue-green-indigo-silver-blue oceanic eyes. Anakin. What time is it, love?

A small, playful shrug and mock-shy, coy lowering of sinfully long eyelashes replies. The sun’s not up yet and won’t be for close to another two hours. We have time.

The smile that response elicits somehow seems so overly full with flashing teeth that it prompts a startled widening of those dark blue eyes. Ah. Well. In /that case . . ./

One swift motion, white body rolling, and Anakin’s sun-stained bronze body topples sideways with a muffled shriek of laughter that quickly fades into an open-mouthed, full-throated moan of incoherent pleasure.

Never let it be said that I allowed opportunity to pass me by.

Wouldn’t dream of it – O!/ – Master . . . /

***

Obi-Wan and Anakin are eating brunch (both men consuming so much food so quickly that, for once, Obi-Wan is too entirely too busy eating to tease Anakin about the quantity of food he’s inhaling) at what is quickly becoming their usual table, just off the kitchens when Sheltay leads a bleary-eyed Bail across to their table, sits him down, and firmly places a cup of sugared, steaming hot stimcaf in his hand. Even Anakin pauses long enough to smile as Bail yawns and then droops, trying to nod off at the table, until Sheltay prods him sharply enough to make him jump, grumble something unintelligible under his breath, and start drinking his stimcaf.

Sheltay rolls her eyes good-naturedly, smiles wryly at the two Jedi Bendu, and tells them, “In case you weren’t already aware of this, you should know that Bail is practically useless, in the mornings, until he’s had either some sugared stimcaf or plain caf.”

Obi-Wan just smiles. “I believe I know someone else who rather fits that description . . . ”

“Says the man who, whenever we’re in our suite at the Temple, goes for his own special blend of stim tea, wake-tea, and the Force alone only knows what all first thing every morning that he can!” Anakin only shoots back, grinning lopsidedly and shaking his head.

“Ah, but at least I function well enough, even without the tea, to avoid trying to pour cereal into the caf-pot,” Obi-Wan merely grins back, making Anakin flush and duck his head.

“You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?” Anakin groans piteously.

Obi-Wan shakes his head, his grin widening. “It was entirely too funny to ever forget.”

“For your information, hot water steeped in sugary cereal does not taste all that good.”

“Perhaps if your cereal had more grain and less sugar . . . ”

“Ugh! Force forfend! I like my food to taste like something besides recycled processed cardboard, thanks all the same!”

“And you shouldn’t make fun of a man forced to go without his caf, anyway. That’s like blaming a baby for being cranky because the bottle’s gone dry,” Bail interjects, still looking a bit bleary around the edges, but managing to make himself intelligible, at least, now that he’s almost done with his second cup of stimcaf.

“Speaking of babies,” Sheltay cuts in before anyone can offer up any other remarks (be they teasing or serious), “have the three of you made arrangements for housing yourselves and the twins at the Temple?”

“Rooms in the younglings’ quarters and the Master-Padawan suites were all originally built to connect to one another. The basic idea was that, in case of an emergency – fire, an enemy attack, a traitor from within, etc. – Masters would be able to get the young ones to move to a safer location without having to resort to the hallways. The connecting doors are kept covered over and hidden by decorative paneling on the walls and intricate parquets on the floor, to keep the method of travel a secret, but it isn’t difficult to reveal them. The area of the Temple our suite is in is largely deserted. I’ve already put in a request for the suites adjoining ours at the back of the apartment and off to its immediate right, when first entering it, since the other side is at the edge of the Temple proper and so facing out onto Coruscant, and that request was being filled when I last asked about it, two weeks ago. They’ll have been furnished appropriate and the doors uncovered and unsealed by now. One will be kept empty, for when the twins have grown old enough to need separate rooms, and, in the meantime, the other will be used to house both them and Bail. The twins can share the Master’s bedroom with Threepio – who’s volunteered to act as a combination nanny for the twins when no one else is available to watch over them and a sort of go-between for us and our allies outside the Temple, much as he did for Padmé – while Bail can have the Padawan’s room,” Obi-Wan explains. “That way, it should be fairly easy for everyone to remain close at hand without being in danger of running roughshod over each other’s privacy.”

“And if all else fails – if for some reason the twins decide to get fussy when they get to the Temple, even though by all accounts they’ve been almost impossibly well-behaved and sweet-tempered so far, or if they should happen to come down with any kind of cold or colic that would keep them up – we can always move Bail temporarily into the other suite, so he can still get enough sleep,” Anakin adds in between enormous bites of cheesy souffle. “Infants, toddlers, and younglings under the age of three or the whatever their species-equivalent age for about three is are all usually kept in special quarters, away from the other younglings, but we want to keep our children close to us. Besides, the way the whole, Order’s being restructured, people are going to be living in units more like families and extended families, anyway. So our arrangements will give everybody else an example to live by, too.”

Sheltay nods in understanding. “Smart. The other Jedi – especially the younger ones – all want to be like the Hero With No Fear and the Negotiator, and so you give them something else to emulate. It is a good thing, though, that your twins are such angels, or else none of you would ever get any sleep. Threepio is a very good protocol droid, even if he does tend to run on a bit, but I’m not very sure he would make a great nanny, if your babies were very contrary.”

“He’ll be fine. I get the feeling he’s going to have lots of help, looking after those two,” Anakin opines, smiling widely.

“And speaking of babies,” Obi-Wan injects, gracefully steering the conversation away from them and towards Sheltay, “when are we going to get to see this lovely child of yours?”

“Winter.” Sheltay’s smile is so bright that it probably could have lit up an entire block of buildings. “I’ve rescheduled the ceremony for later this afternoon, Masters, about three hours from now. You are of course both most welcome to come and stand witness.”

“We would be honored to attend, Lady Sheltay,” Obi-Wan instantly replies, inclining his head to her in a way that somehow implies a polite bow, despite the table still heavily laden with food and drink between them.

“It is scheduled for an hour and a half past noon, down in one of the private courtyard gardens. I can send one of Milady Alessya’s girls up to fetch you, a little beforehand, if you wish,” Sheltay offers.

“We’d appreciate that,” Anakin replies, smiling, before Obi-Wan can quite manage to accept the proposal, “thanks. I don’t know about anyone else, but I figured Bail would want to spend as much time as he could today with his family, especially Alaina, and that Obi-Wan and I would probably go and talk some more with Lyxé and the others and maybe Mon Mothma, too, if she’s not too busy packing.”

Sheltay nods. “Junior Consul Mon Mothma has also been invited to attend. I will make sure to have someone comm, first, to locate you.”

Bail gives them a slightly surprised and guardedly pleased look over the rim of his mug. “You won’t wish to talk to me about my duties and responsibilities, once we reach the Temple?”

Obi-Wan smiles and waves a hand in genial dismissal of the notion. “There will be plenty of time to speak of obligations and expectations both on the trip to Coruscant. Besides, I’m sure Alaina will want to go over certain plans with you, regarding Alderaan’s future and the New Jedi Bendu Order, at least once more, before you leave with us. Besides, we had a message waiting for us this morning from Mon Mothma. Apparently, the Grand Masters arranged for the larger ship she came here in to transport us all back to Coruscant, along with the starfighter General Grievous left behind. She didn’t seem to think she’d be ready to leave before either tonight or tomorrow morning. I rather thought I’d suggest a departure time for sometime tomorrow after breakfast, say . . . around nine or even ten? That way, we won’t be imposing on Mon Mothma, yet, if all goes well, we should still be on Coruscant no later than the following dawn.”

Bail looks positively thrilled with the arrangement. “I would be extremely grateful for such a later departure time, if it won’t inconvenience the junior Consul or keep either one of you from anything that might require your attention on Coruscant. Alaina and Raymus are a little nervous, still, about things.”

“They do know they can contact you at the Temple if they need to, right?” Anakin asks, frowning a little in concern.

“They know that, Master. It’s just easier to ask about things while I’m still here and they don’t need to worry about interrupting me when I might be training,” Bail replies with a slightly apologetic smile, shrugging just a little.

“Ah. Well. As long as they know it’s alright,” Anakin replies with a shrug of his own.

At Bail’s reassuring smile and reaffirming nod, Obi-Wan declares, in a calm, matter of fact tone, “Then I suppose Anakin and I will be going to see Mon Mothma, first, while you go speak to Alaina and Raymus. We should be able to let you know an exact departure time, when we come to ceremony for Winter.”

This time it’s Bail who manages to give the impression of a full bow as he smiles softly, sincerely, and earnestly replies, “Thank you, Master.”

“It’s no trouble. Go and be with your family, Bail. You’ll have plenty of time to be with us, as our Padawan, later,” Obi-Wan smiles back at him and waves his hand ever so slightly again, with finality this time, swiftly putting an end to that discussion.

The meal goes fairly quickly after that, Bail eating hurriedly so that he can excuse himself and go find his sister and Sheltay efficiently keeping pace with him (and fixing both of them an easy portable, hot sandwich to carry off with them, so that they won’t actually go hungry because of Bail’s haste) while Obi-Wan and Anakin both continue to work their way through a surprising amount of food. Unsurprisingly, Bail and Sheltay finish before they do, excusing themselves politely from the table about twenty minutes after they first sat down at it, leaving Obi-Wan and Anakin are alone at the table to finish their overlarge meal.